


These Walls Can be Sturdy

by Moonlessmondays



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Porn Without Plot, explicit - Freeform, i just want falice to fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 10:34:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14134296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlessmondays/pseuds/Moonlessmondays
Summary: In which Alice shows up to FP's trailer looking very ready to fuck.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i havent seen the ep yet so everything applies and then it only deviates from the story line after FP opens the door for Alice. 
> 
> Im going off the bat and just guessing but yall know we want them to fuck so here we are
> 
> Really explicit, so walk away now if you dont want that.

**These walls can be sturdy**

_ *Deviates after FP opens the door* _

 

**Chapter One**

 

It strikes her just a little bit peculiar that his eyes are probably the most familiar thing to her in all her life, yet today, right now, right this moment as she stands outside the door of his trailer, heart hammering inside of her body as it makes the leap to her throat, his eyes seem to be the most alien...most wondrous thing she has ever seen.

It feels like gazing up and meeting him for the first time, yet they’re so intensely memorable to her. It’s the same shade of brown, the same smouldering stare that turns her into a pile of molten lava, the very same man her heart has never forgotten even after all these years. She’s tried to stay away, really she has, and for the last twenty odd something years, she’s been successful, sniping and spewing venom in whichever way he goes and back to where he’s from, but she’s weak.

Deep inside, she’s the same fifteen year old girl who got her first kiss from the boy who lives on the next door trailer, the same boy she’s known and loved for almost all her life.

The girl who’d grown up to become the woman she’s always dreamt of being and lost who she really is in the process.

In retrospect, the only reason she’d hated FP so much is because he’d been a living, tangible reminder of her old life, and how much she’d despised that life, and how despite all that, despite all the bad memories that comes along loving a man from the South Side and being a girl who’d grown up at the South side, she loves him still.

And sometimes, when she lets her mask fall and lets the curtains draw from the theatre act that is Alice Cooper, she longs to be the very same fifteen year old girl. Even just to feel...maybe even just to  _ breathe,  _ to  _ live. _

And when she’d seen the opportunity, she’d seized it, had come knocking on his door with nothing but confidence (a very small part coming from the liquid courage she had discreetly tried to down before heading down here), and a little bit of apprehension.

The apprehension had all but fled away when he’d opened the door and had taken her in...snake-print blouse and bold red lips included. She’d even gone out of the way to unbutton the first few buttons(alright maybe half of it, but who really cares when it’s going to be up and off in a few minutes anyway, right?) of her shirt. His look alone had been worth the slight mortification she’d felt on her drive here, half afraid that they’d be caught by their teen aged children.

He steps aside without a word, and graciously she takes a step forward and inside the tiny trailer. She doesn’t see his smirk, but knows it’s there anyway, and she’s proven right when he takes her by the elbow and doesn’t give her a moment to breathe when he slams his mouth to hers.

_ Thud. _

The loud sound of her back hitting the door doesn’t surprise her, and neither does it dissuade her from wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close. 

This is  _ wrong _ .

Technically, they’re both still married...but that isn’t really going to stop her. At least she’s clear that she’s divorcing her lying sack of a husband, while  _ he _ had slept with that half melted ten cent trollop.  So, really, guilt isn’t something she even considers right now. Actually, if she’s being honest, her husband is the least of her concerns right now.

There are more...er... _ pressing  _ matters that need her attention at the moment.

She toes her shoes off to the side, basking in the difference it makes as she stands marginally shorter than him. The action is not enough to break the kiss, but his lips follow where hers are, and her head falls back to the door—another thump—and then there’s nothing  but the wet sound of mouths fusing again and again that can be heard through the otherwise empty and silent trailer.

“Is that a rocket in your pocket or are you happy to see me?” she asks, pulling away from his kiss long enough to murmur the sentence against his lips. She’s still trapped between the hard wood door and  _ his _ hard wood, and his arms are wrapped around her waist, his chest heaving against hers as their breaths synchronise and fall into a pattern. 

“I’m always happy to see you, Alice,” he rasps, his lips trailing from her mouth to her cheek, to her jaw, to her ear where he bites and nibbles, making goose bumps rise against her skin. He makes his point by grinding against her, where her hip and her thighs meet.

Hot waves course through her body, right down to her core, and a rush of wetness makes her desires known. He knows, too,  what he’s doing to her because he smirks, quirks one eyebrow, before his head drops to her chest, his lips placing biting kisses to the exposed flesh of her breasts.

Thank god for push up bras, she muses as he sucks on her skin tenderly, leaving a love bite she’ll be sure to chastise him later (though they both know how much she loves it) and making her moan.

_ More _ , she wants more. She wants more of him,  _ all _ of him, and she lets him know exactly what she wants when she grabs him by the hair and pulls him up to kiss him again. He can pay proper attention to her tits later, she wants to kiss him now. She’s been deprived of it for so long that she’s almost forgotten what it feels like to be kissing him.

Almost, but not quite.

It’s like putting on the sexiest pair of lingerie she owns and at the same time putting her most favourite slippers on. It’s sexy and familiar, and though that analogy doesn’t exactly make sense, it’s all the same. Kissing FP is like having her insides set on fire, like the need and the desire threaten to consume her. It’s hot and heavy and passionate, and it’s extremely arousing, especially when he slips his tongue inside her mouth without asking for the permission she’s already given.

But it’s also like coming home as she feels his arm tighten around her, even as the other slither through her body, feeling every inch he can reach—caressing her side, squeezing her waist, reaching up to palm her breast and pinch her nipple.

His hands are wide and calloused, and she feels their warmth seeping through the silk, and then on her skin once the shirt has been down and off. She hasn’t realized that he’d managed to undo all the buttons, but FP is skilful that way. He makes her forget things, makes her drown in passion, dulls her senses, and makes her cum and cum and cum until she doesn’t think she can walk ever again.

“FP,” she murmurs when she has to pull away because the need for air becomes unbearable. 

She is trembling, shaking, wanting, and she wants to feel him, wants to feel his cock inside her, cuming and cuming. She wants him to fill her and fuck her seven days to Sunday, and she doesn’t want to regret it.

She  _ doesn’t _ regret it.

She looks up at him through hooded eyes as her hand drift down to where he’s already hard and ready for her. She wonders if he’s known, how long it’s take to get him to this point, and she wants to ask but bites down on her bottom lip to stop herself.

“It doesn’t take much for me to get turned on by you,” he answers the question she doesn’t voice, and she groans, feels herself getting wetter by the declaration because the same is true for her, too, and really, he only ever needs to look at her in that way...in that I will fuck you right into the mattress way that has her shivering with want for him.

She’s learned to hide it well all through out the years...but she’s no longer holding back now.

She trails her fingers down his bulge, rubs him through the fabric of his jeans and feels him growing harder and harder, and she can see in his face (his eyes falling shut and his head lolling a bit to the side, with his cheeks and lips smeared with the blood red of her lipstick) how turned on he’s quickly becoming, and  _ shit _ , she needs to fuck him. Sh e needs to fuck him in every square inch of his tiny trailer until the next morning comes, and even then it’s not going to be enough.

“Are you turned on right now, FP?” she asks, her voice husky and foreign even to her own ears. She can feel her panties getting soaked through, and she’s so wet that she feels herself dripping, feels the sweet and smooth slide at every shift of her legs. 

He breathes through his mouth and does a half snort, half grunt, as he opens his eyes and looks at her. “You tell me, you’re holding the evidence,” he quips, and it’s just so like him to be making sarcastic remarks at a time like this.

“Cocky,” she says as she deliberately rubs her palm against the rock hard bulge tenting his trousers. She swears to god, if FP is going commando under those jeans, she is going to have a heart attack.

He smirks. And yep, she’s fallen right into that one, hasn’t she? 

“Why don’t you take my jeans off and see for yourself how cocky I am exactly,” he tells her making her shake her head as he nonchalantly trails his fingers up and down her sides. 

She smiles at him pleasantly, the picture of innocence, the essence of a perfect Stepford wife captured. But her plans are far more devious as her fingers rush to unbutton his jeans and unzip them, lowering them down his hips and off his legs.

And Christ on cupcake, yes of course, he’s bare assed naked inside those fucking jeans. She’s always thought those jeans are criminal, but as she looks down between them and finds his cock jutting, hard and ready, feels his satiny head pushing against her abdomen, she thinks that this...this FP with his shirt on and his dick bared for her pleasure is lethal.

“Hmm,” she hums as she reaches up to kiss him again, letting her lips trail down to the junction in his neck where his pulse is beating, and then bites down on it. Payback is a bitch after all, and he’s not so averse to marking her, then she’s not either, and she sucks and sucks, licks and nibbles his skin that has him sagging, his knees knocking. She doesn’t let him buckle through the pleasure though, wraps her palm and fingers around his hard cock and rubs. 

She wishes she can say she’s forgotten how big he really is, but that would be a lie.

She knows, knows exactly how big and how well he fit inside her. She knows, too, how to make him tremble, and does so and she fucks him with her hand, her thumb rubbing the pre cum against the head as she pumps him. 

“Fuck, Alice,” he gasps, and yes, yes, she wants him to say her name, like that. 

His hands land on the door as he braces himself, tries to remain steady even as the pleasure takes over. She stalls, stills for a moment with her hand wrapped around his girth and smiles up at him. He looks at her and knows, starts thrusting his hips against the circle of her hand, making do, probably, until he can fuck her cunt.

“Alice, oh fuck, fuck Alice,” he chants like a mantra, and he’s close, she knows he’s close and that won’t do because they haven’t done anything yet.

She raises an eyebrow at him. “What do you want, FP,” she asks though she knows exactly what she wants. He’s fucked her enough times for her to know every sigh, every moan, every grunt, every thrust of his hips, and every squeeze of his hands against her hips.

“I want to fuck your mouth,” he tells her anyway, and she smirks, knows that this is what he wants but doesn’t say anything more as she drops to her knees and comes face to face his with his erect cock.

She kisses the head, making him shudder, and she feels his hand tangle through her blonde locks she’d mussed up especially for the occasion. He doesn’t push her though, and she doesn’t ask for more encouragement. She runs her tongue up and down his length, swirls it against the sensitive head, and when he least expects him, opens her mouth and takes him in it whole. 

She feels him hit the back of her throat, and her jaw aches just a bit from his size and her lack of exercise on this particular activity, but it doesn’t take long for her to adjust either. She swallows, pushes him deeper down her throat until her nose is right up against his skin. He’s all the way in, something that he seems truly gratified for, because he moans, pulls her hair and calls out her name, tells her it’s  _ good, so fucking good, and fuck you’re a Goddess, Alice. _

She pushes his cock deeper until she can do it no longer, and then she pulls back, bobs her head and sucks him in like he’s never been fucked before. He’s always told her that she’s good at this, that no one has ever given him head better than she has, but that had been back when they’d been seventeen with not much experience to go on with. Time has passed, and they’ve gotten older, but she hopes that no one has quite given him the same pleasure, because she sure as hell is certain that no one has for  _ her. _

It’s enough motivation for her, to still be the best he’s ever had, and she gears up, ties it up another notch, and sucks harder, pushes his dick deeper into her mouth and throat. She stills for a moment, rakes her nails against his ass—and what  _ exquisite _ ass they are—and pushes him to tell him without words to thrust into her mouth, fuck her like he wants to.

He seems to get the message as his hold on his hair tightens and he pumps inside her mouth, his hips pistoning as he fucks in and out of her mouth, no doubt a foresight to what he’s about to do to her pussy later.

She feels herself getting more drenched by the second, and fuck it, she wants to feel him cum inside her mouth. Wants to feel his cum sliding down her throat.

“Oh fuck, Alice, I’m going to cum,” he tells her, warns her that he needs to pull out if she doesn’t want this party to be over before it can truly begin.

But they do have all night, and there are many several, delicious ways they could orgasm with all that time.

She gives a slight nod, just enough to let him know that yep, he can nut inside her mouth and that she’d like it, and that  _ fuck _ she wants to taste him.

“ _ Oh fuck, oh fuck _ .”

And yes, indeed.

He’s still apprehensive but gets her point, and he continues to thrust past her lips, fucks inside her mouth. She helps him along by reaching up to cup his balls, and it takes him two more thrusts before he’s exploding inside of her, the sheer load that he dumps in her throat pleasantly surprising her.

“Oh fuck, sorry, babe, I—,” he whimpers as he groans in pleasure. 

She shakes her head at him not wanting him to apologize because she wants that, has wanted it for so long and has dreamt about it. She tries to deny her feelings for him, has tried to deny it for so long, it’s almost funny if they hadn’t wasted so much time.

Though, a life together would have meant no Jughead, or Betty, or Polly and her grandkids...and that she can’t fathom, so she settles for everything happening for a reason, and maybe they didn’t happen before, because they’re supposed to happen  _ now— _ when they’re both more matured and can handle a matured, adult relationship that is worthy of the love they shared.

She smiles at him as she rises from her knees, hears her joints popping, and yes, she’s aged, is even a grandma now, but she’s just blown this man’s dick like she’s in her teens.

He shakes his head in wonder, smiling as he pulls her close to his chest.

He drops a kiss to her nose, then to her lips, hums at the taste of his cum still in her mouth.

“You’re still the best at that, do you know that?” he tells her and she smirks, does a little victory dance inside her mind. “It’s time that I return the favour. After all, it’s only fair I get to taste you after you’ve tasted me, right?”

And to that, oh dear, she has no complaints. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. Final chapter. Thanks for all the kudos. 
> 
> Again it is porn so walk away if that's not your thing.

**Chapter Two**

 

When the sound of knocking reached his ears, he had known right away who it is. He had opened the door with a smug smile and little trepidation, overwhelmed that greeted him. Some things really don’t change, and Alice Smith Cooper still does go all out when seducing someone into her will...not that he’s ever going to refuse. She is temptation on legs, and even after all these years, it’s a known fact that he is unable to resist her.

Hell, he had retrieved a dead body and buried it for her, leaving it to rot into nothingness just so she’d be cleared of trouble (trouble that has now been rearing its ugly head on their lives—one that they will be resolving ad they go,  _ together _ ). He has no problem doing anything she asks of him now, looking the way she is, with her hair tousled, her lips painted a dark shade of alluring red, and her tits out and bared, for his viewing pleasure.

She makes no mistake of sharing her intentions of being here, gives him a run for his money when she sucks him good and proper, making him come and causing for his load to shoot down her throat. It doesn’t surprise him that it’s good, that it still is, even after years of separation, because he knows how good Alice is at  _ this _ and knows that she is the best he’s ever had and will ever have.  _ That _ thing won’t change.

He offers her the same favour, and she smiles coyly at him, flutters her eyelashes suggestively, and though there are no words exchanged, he knows it is what she wants, feels the anticipation rising between them as she licks her lips, still with the taste of his cum in them.

He doesn’t resist, doesn’t fight the urge, only leans in and kisses her—softer this time, his tongue leisurely playing with hers, savouring this moment because it’s been what he’s been waiting for, for some twenty something odd years now, and he’d be joking if he doesn’t say that he’ll be damn sure to take time.

She’s sweet and salty, minty, and everything nice in this world, and it’s like coming home. It is a thought that has been running in his head since the first moment he’d kissed her when she’d come in, sauntering inside his trailer like she’d owned it. She’d threaten to tear it apart with her bare hands earlier this week, but he’s sure that it isn’t her bare hands that would be tearing this place down.

He backs her to the wall even as he kisses her, traps her between the wall and his hard strength. They both know these walls can be sturdy, had tested it out far more times than they seedy memories can now recall. It is like old times, and he basks in the pleasure of being able to kiss her freely again, of being able to be the man she needs, if only for the moment, because he knows he hasn’t been for a very long while.

Slowly, he reaches down, lets his fingers drift down her skin smoothly and gently, and then unclasps her bra, freeing her tits. He’d been dreaming about them for a long time, longing to have them in his hands and his mouth again, to test their weight in his palms, and feel their silky smoothness on his tongue.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters when he pulls away long enough to see them. They are even better than he remembers and this woman before him...she’s a goddess. “You’re gorgeous.”

She blushes prettily, and looks away to hide it, but he tips her chin back to his general direction so their eyes can meet. “You are beautiful,” he tells her again, and kisses her soundly to prove his point.

“I’m a mother, Forsythe,” she tells him pointedly, and he rolls her eyes, because so what? She’s a mom, but she’s just as gorgeous as she had been in her teens, maybe even more so in his eyes.

He nods fervently. “Yes,” he says before diving down to the crook of her neck and kissing her skin, making a trail down her chest, to where her tits are now free and bouncing with each movement. How did he get so lucky, huh? “A mother I’d like to fuck,” he finishes as he licks at one nipple, making her head loll back against the wall and a moan to slip past her mouth. She always makes the most beautiful sounds, and he is determined to hear more of them.

He wraps his arms around her tiny waist, pushing face closer to the soft flesh of tits, and then his lips and teeth and tongue work on her nipple, tasting and nipping, nibbling and licking, sucking hard and then soft, his mouth a suction that pulls on the rosy tips. 

Her own arms wrap around his head, and he strives to make it easier for them by lifting her up and having wrap his legs around his waist. 

He smiles against her breast, and yes, this is definitely better as he is able to pay ample attention to the girls. After all, she’d made the effort to have them out and play ( _ to be played with _ ) today, and he’s merely a man, easily lured by the wonder that is  _ her. _

“Oh, fuck, FP,” she groans as he sucks on her nipple hard, and then soft, alternating in between until she is mewling in his arms. He can feel her hot, wet desire seeping through the fabric of her pants right into his skin, and it fucking burns, he is burned with desire, and he feels his cock stirring again. Then again, he doesn’t need much time to recover when it’s with her, because she’s so hot he sometimes wants to just fuck her till sunrise.

He kisses across her chest and gives her other breast the same attention as the other one, feeling her nails rake down his back, right up to his scalp, where she scratches him with equal parts roughness and tenderness. God she’s so fucking beautiful, he can’t wait to be inside her, can’t wait to fuck her.

He feels her legs tighten around his waist and then feels her grind against him, trying to get friction where he knows she’s wet and throbbing for him. He wants to taste her, wants to eat her out until she comes apart, and he has told her he will, so he makes good on his promise.

He backs away from the wall, his precious cargo still in his arms, and apart from her mewl of surprise, she doesn’t make any form of protests, only holds on tighter to him as he brings her to the kitchen counter and splays her across it, flat on her back.

They don’t say anything, and he takes no time in removing the only two pieces of clothing getting in the way of  _ his  _ treasure. He throws her pants behind his shoulder haphazardly, guessing it’s landed not a feet away from them but he doesn’t care. She is a sight to behold in her matching thong, and he can see her cunt glistening in arousal, and fuck, he wants him  _ some _ of that.

“FP  _ please, _ ” she moans when he does nothing but stare at her, and she’s looking at him with pained eyes, and he knows that she wants this as much as him (though it cannot be  _ more _ because he’s been dreaming about this, about her for twenty years, has been pining after her for longer). 

“Wait a sec, baby,” he pleads even as he leans down to kiss her again. He pulls back and gives her a long once over. “I have to see you like this...it’s been so long, I...I never thought I’d ever get to do it again.”

She sighs, sits up and looks at him with pain in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she offers sincerely, and he frowns, shakes his head. This has turned into the direction he doesn’t want it to. There will be time for remorse and guilt and apologies later, right now is the time for them to come together and come apart.

“I don’t want you to apologize,” he tells her. “I want you to cum.” He smirks at her as he lays her back down the counter, and she grins in return, acknowledging that now isn’t time for  _ that _ .

He kisses her again, and he knows he’s stolen more kisses than he can count—but he can, right now he can kiss her whenever he wants, so he will. He kisses her everywhere: her lips, her cheeks, her eyes as they fall close, the tips of her nose, down her neck, to her chest. He kisses both her tits, then trails down to the underside, licks against the serpent tattoo she’s keeping there. 

He remembers it being painful when he’d given it to her, knows from how he’d held on to his leg, her knuckles making dents on his flesh, but in the end they’d been both satisfied of the outcome, had found it incredibly sexy. She’s wanted to put the tattoo where no one can see it, not unless they see her naked, and at the time that had been  _ him _ . It’s always been a turn on, and it’s turn on now as he licks down, down her body, to her stomach, and her navel, and the juncture where her hips and waist meet, leading down to her long, beautiful legs.

He makes his way back up, teasing, teasing, watching as she tenses, the anticipation rising, her hips bucking with the need for his tongue right at her sopping wet cunt. He wants that, too, but can’t resist the foreplay.

“Forsythe, I swear to god, if I don’t feel your tongue in my.. _ mmhmmm!” _ She doesn’t get to finish her thought, he doesn’t let her.

He smirks as she goes quiet, her breathing comes out harder, panting and panting, as his moves his mouth to where she needs him the most. She’s still covered in lace, and he moves up, clamps his teeth on the waistband of her thong, and pulls it down her hips and off her legs. Shifting in his position, he kneels between her legs and raises one leg over his shoulder, kisses down a path to where she’s clearly wet and wanting.

He hears her whimper, watches as her hands sink into the covers as she fights to keep herself from bucking or pulling him down to her cunt. He knows her, knows that she gets off as much pleasure from this slow torture as much as he, and though she will break at any point now, she’s still enjoying this...enjoying the way he is placing sucking kisses from her calves down the apex of her thighs.

Her scent is intoxicating, hell,  _ she _ is intoxicating, and fuck, he can’t take it, he needs her, needs to taste her, needs to eat her out good and proper.

“Pleaseeeee,” she whines, and all is lost. He shifts again, pushes her legs up so that her knees are touching her shoulders, and he positions himself so that his face is aligned to her sex. Without giving her any more time than he already has to wait, he kisses her labia, one after the other, and then flattens his tongue through the length of her, from the slit to her clit and then back. The moaning response she makes is out of the world, and he’s missed this, fucking missed her, and he tells her so, murmurs the words with a mouthful of her pussy and it comes out muffled, barely understandable, but the vibrations gets her going, has her bucking against him, pushing herself closer to his mouth, asking him with babbled words for more.

He delivers, frees his hand of her thigh and asks her to hold herself open for him, which she does—loops her arm under her knees and pulls back, bares herself free for him. He has never been the one to take the gift horse from the mouth, and so he makes his move, goes to town on her cunt with his lips and teeth and tongue. He nips at her folds, before licking at her clit—hard and wet now that she’s so aroused—and licking a bit down only to push his tongue inside her slit. 

He stiffens his tongue, pushes in and out of her the way that he knows drives her mad. He alternates between fucking her with his tongue and sucking her clit in, and he can feel it, feel the way she’s trembling and knowing she is close, knows that she is almost there, she  _ just needs a bit more push. _

“FP, I want...I need...” she begs in a husky whisper, and fuck it goes right to his groin, has him hard and erect, almost to the point of pain.

He knows what she needs though, and he doesn’t make her ask twice, lifts two fingers and slides it inside. Fuck, she feels good, tight and wet and so fucking ready, and his fucking cock is so ready to fuck her...god, how they even ever let this go he will just never know. 

He pumps his fingers inside her. In. Out. In. Out, then in again and he crooks it just so, that he hits her g-spot, making her cry out, hips bucking. She’s close, she’s so goddamn close, and he wants her to cum, wants her to cum so bad, tells her so before he fills his mouth with her clit and cunt, licks like a mad man, eats her pussy like he’s a man starved and she’s the last meal on earth. 

She might as well be.

“ _ Oh! Fuck, Right there, yes, baby, right there, _ ” she moans, babbling, her words and grunts followed by a string of expletives she’d never allow herself to let loose in front of the kids, but he likes it, loves this side of her, the well fucked version of her that doesn’t care about anything. “Yes, FP!”

Her voice goes to crescendo, her pitch high as her hips fly and she comes apart after a particular hard thrust of his fingers inside her. He feels her cum, feels the way her walls clench around his fingers, feels the way they contract as her cum drips out of her.

“Fuck that was great,” she says as he kisses up his way to her lips. She smiles against his lips as her arms wrap around him and he smiles against her, too, enjoying the closeness and the intimacy of their favourite recreational activity. “I want you.” He knows she can feel his hard length pressing up against her wet cunt, and he knows that she knows it’s exactly what he wants too.

With a small nod, he pulls away, pulls her into his arms and away from the counter on their way. It must be hell on her back later, but then again, he can just give her a massage. She deserves to be pampered, and he’s glad she’s letting him be the one to do it for her again.

“I...” he starts but she kisses him, effectively letting the words die from his lips. He pulls away and frowns at her.

“Don’t say it,” she pleads, and he can see the need in her eyes, knows she doesn’t want to hear it but he doesn’t know why. She must know, she  _ has _ to know.

“I mean it,” he tells her though with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“I know,” she acknowledges, nodding. “And I am starting to think I do, too, and that I might never have really stopped meaning it...but that’s a conversation for another day?” It’s a question not a statement, and he nods, knows that really, neither of them wants to sully the mood. She kisses him. “Thank you. Right now I just want to be fucked.”

He grins, lets the conversation die down for now, puts it in the back of his mind to be brought back to the forefront again later. Instead, he kisses her, backs her into the same wall they’d been standing on earlier.

“Are you sure?” she asks him, and he knows exactly what she is asking.

“Babe, these walls can be very sturdy,” he answers with a smug grin, because hell, again they’ve tested out that theory a long time ago, many, many times over.

She looks at him doubtfully. “It’s been years, FP, are you sure?” she asks him once more.

“Just trust me, okay?” he tells her, and she nods. “Not to sully the mood, but are you—,”

“On the pill, yes,” she confirms. There’s no need to wrap up then. “And I trust you haven’t...”

“Not since Gladys, and that’s a very long time ago.”

She nods once more, and they talk no more of it. Instead he shifts her in his arms, heaves her a bit higher and she rests her back against the wall, legs tightening around his waist as his cock aligns with her cunt.

It’s like wearing a well-fitted shirt, or a glove. It’s like finding and fitting that one last jigsaw puzzle to complete the picture. 

It’s like coming home after being gone for so long.

It’s a tight fit, but it’s a fit, it’s a good fit. It’s the same fit as it had ever been, and he’s sure as he has always been that she’s the one for him, that this,  _ them _ , they are meant to be.

“Oh God, FP,” she murmurs as he slides in fully, the length of fully sheathed inside her hot wet cunt. 

“Fuck, Alice,” he grunts, holding on to her tighter and bracing her on the wall better as he pulls out and pushes in again.

_ In. _

_ Out. _

_ In. _

_ Out. _

And all that’s heard is the wet sound of skin slapping skin as he fucks her right into the wall. The dull thudding of her back hitting the hard surface comes as a staccato beat. His mouth finds her flesh, finds her tits and sucks her nipple, while her fingers find her clit and she rubs, moans one long moan when the triple sensation hits her hard.

Her walls clench along with the sound, and fuck, that feels good, that feels fucking good. He’s slow at first, deliberately reintroducing his cock to her cunt by way of intrusion after so long of not being able to fuck her. But the need catches up quick and he tries very, very hard to reign himself as he begins pumping erratically in and out of her, lest he actually comes before her.

Not that he needs worry at the very least, as she’s just as caught up as him asking him to do her  _ harder, yes fuck deeper, FP, faster, harder, baby right there, yes, fuck _ .

“I want,” a pause, pant, deep breath, he doesn’t let up, lets her find her words as he drives his cock deep into her cunt. “I want ugh, fuck, yeah, from behind, please, fuck, FP, behind.”

He groans at the thought but doesn’t deny her, brings her over to the couch and throws her on it. She gets on all fours without prompt and he barely gives her a moment before he’s behind her, the head of his cock pushing slightly against her slit. His hands finds the cheek of her delectable ass, and he can’t help it, he delivers a sharp blow, one and then the other, and her ass cheeks turn a particularly beautiful shade of pink. She gyrates her ass for him as her head falls into the crook of her arms, presenting the beautiful heart shaped treasure more for his pleasure.

He’s no longer an eighteen year old man unable to keep himself in check, but an Alice Smith asking to be fucked doggie style is really, really hard to resist. A man has got to be a saint to do that, and fuck it to hell, Forsythe Jones the second ain’t no saint. In fact given his less than stellar record, he’s more of a devil’s son.

So he doesn’t even try. He pushes himself all the way inside her wet cunt, feels her pulsating as he slowly inches himself it until he’s buried to the hilt, her cock buried so deep inside her. She’s mewling and babbling, head shaking as she pushes against him, trying to get him even deeper even as he’s all in. His hands fall to her waist, gripping her, and then he pumps into her, hips bucking, his pelvis hitting her soft ass at every thrust. He’s so fucking hard for her and she’s so fucking wet for him, and fuck this feels good, she feels it too as she screams for him to  _ fuck her, keep fucking her just like that, harder, deeper, oh yes, right there. _

He needs more of her, and she’s right here, letting him have all of her so he takes advantage, takes one hand to her breast and uses that to pull her up against him, her back flat against his chest. The other hand slithers around her waist, to her clit and he flicks his thumb against the bundle of nerves, making her let out a small scream.

They fuck right into each other, his cock spearing her tight wet cunt over and over again, and his balls tingle, he’s close, whispers the words to her ears and she echoes the statement, ruts her hips harder down on his cock, as he raps harder inside her.

She’s babbling again, a sign that she is close, and that’s good, that’s really good because he’s not sure he can last any longer.

“Cum for me, babe,” he mutters against her ear, teeth sinking into her lobes as his fingers pinch her nipple and his fingers flick against her clit, trying to give her as much pleasure as he possibly can as she rides right into him.

When she rides particularly hard into his cock, driving him deeper inside her cunt, she screams, and he feels her come again, her orgasm taking her in waves as she topples over the edge of precipice. He moves her so she’s on all fours again and with a tap on her waist and a nod of her head, goes to town into her, pistons his hips from behind her, thrusting his cock in and out of her faster and harder until he, too, loses it, and cum for the second time that night.

He collapses against her back and they both topple over the couch. There’s silence as they both pant to catch their breaths, and he smiles, blindly reaches for her hand and holds it.

He closes his eyes and smiles, basking in this. It’s been so long, a long time coming really, but it’s been worth it.

“Thank God you forced Betty to move back in,” he comments when the silence stretches too long. “Love the girl, but I’m glad to have my room back.”

She chuckles and he shifts so she move up the couch and lay on her back. She smiles at him, and God, she’s gorgeous like this, thoroughly fucked with her hair tousled and her lipstick mussed. 

“I’m glad too,” she tells him, and he doesn’t resist the urge to kiss her, leans down and places his lips against hers.

“Good,” he says, closing his eyes and touching forehead against hers, making her reach up to kiss his nose, “Because I think I’m going to need another round to make sure I didn’t dream this again.”

She laughs out loud, and then squeals when he gets up and gathers her into his arms. He walks them back to the bedroom he’s only recently reclaimed, but he notes that she doesn’t make any complaint.

 

**Fin**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you have smut prompts you'd like me to write or whatever. And check out my other fics if you havent!!! Thanks for reading!!


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